


Duet

by shipthehats



Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Dipper's romance plan but gay, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, band au, now maybe I might do more chapters idk, pinescone, started as a one-shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipthehats/pseuds/shipthehats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper and Wirt are in a few classes together, but they've never really talked. When Dipper finally musters up the courage to ask the principal first clarinet to do a duet with him...he says yes! In awe of his luck, Dipper sets out a plan to get Wirt to notice him for more than being some lame sousaphone. Little does he know Wirt is just as awkward as Dipper. If not, more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duet

**Author's Note:**

> I received a prompt from an anon asking for a pinescone fic. The ask reads, "Dipper looking for Wirt, and finds him in a room playing his clarinet. Dipper slowly forgets of what he was going to ask him and listens to Wirt play a complicated but beautiful piece. When he is finished, Dipper claps and praises him, which scares Wirt and makes him all flustered." So I took it and RAN! Hope you enjoy :)

A nervous excitement filled him as he flicked through the pages in his hands. Gliding down the familiar hallways, Dipper only once shifted his attention in order to quickly swerve around a teacher. It took him a moment to realize the man had extended a greeting to him and was expecting one in return. Doubling back, he felt the embarrassment prickle his face and neck as he recognized the band director.

            "Dipper! How you been, boy? Seems you found some pieces after all, huh?" He didn't seem to notice how incredibly sweaty Dipper was.

            "Oh, I'm doing fine, Mr. Webber." Dipper rushed the niceties. "Yeah, it was hard to find music for a sousaphone-clarinet duet, but I think I've got a few winners in here." He thumbed the edges of the freshly copied music, sending a short breeze to ghost over his face. The breath of cool air did him a favor, clearing his mind enough to ask, "H-Have you seen Wirt anywhere? I want to give him a copy before I head home."

            "In the practice room." Mr. Webber jerked his head to gesture down the hallway. "He's had it reserved every day this week. I'm sure he needs new music by now." He chuckled in that hearty way adults do when they haven't said anything funny, but instead seem to laugh at how things never change. He looked Dipper up and down and sent him off with a wave. "You boys have fun. Make it to state for me, okay?"

            Already walking backwards Dipper replied, "No promises, but we'll do our best!" He turned on his heels and raced back down the hall. With a sudden vision of falling flat on his face and shattering his chances of anything on his Very Important List getting done, Dipper slowed his pace but it did nothing to slow the pounding in his chest.

            _I said sousaphone-clarinet duet... I said duet.... A duet with Wirt!_  Dipper couldn't understand why the word sounded so intimate to him. He also couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Wirt actually said yes to entering solo and ensemble together. Surely he must have had other offers; Wirt is principal first clarinet after all, and Dipper is just some sousaphone. He's not even one of the better players in the marching band. _I mean, I pull my weight but I'm nothing special. He probably just said yes out of pity..._ Dipper scrunched up his face and lightly slapped his cheeks a few times. _Okay, come on, Dipper! Don't bum yourself out, you're going to go in there and show Wirt that you can carry a light-hearted and enjoyable conversation without getting weird!_ He took a deep breath as he stood before the band room's double doors. Carefully, he pushed on the door, remembered it was pull, and thanked his lucky stars no one saw.

            Inside, the high ceiling and empty chairs didn't offer their usual comfort. They instead seemed to wait and judge. Instrument lockers were left open and vacant, papers strewn about, this being the last weekend before the mid-semester chair test. The strange stillness of chaos made Dipper pause to appreciate the room in its unbalance. Heavy and solid on the ground, yet light up above. The acoustic panels and trusses guided Dipper up and away, making him feel small. And even smaller as they suggested he belonged in the chaos below.

            There is something hypnotizing about rooms like that.

            He didn't know how long he had been peeking around the door when Dipper heard something drift through the air. It was hollow and sad, but also so very sweet. The melody took slow, deliberate steps, just as Dipper did as he came out from behind the door. Wirt continued his solo in the practice room, unaware that anyone was listening through the door he had left half-open.

            Dipper watched as Wirt moved with his breath, just a gentle glide, as if he and music were one and the same. Each guiding the other. The tempo picked up, yet remained relaxed. In a kind of calm complexity, the rest of the world fell away. Dipper felt as if he were seeing a very vulnerable side of Wirt; that this was something too personal. He leaned his head against the doorframe and let out a quiet sigh. This, his own addition to the melody. _He's amazing..._

            The solo ran its course. Through tension and resolve, _pianissimo_ and _forte_ , Wirt seemed to be both grounded and airy. Lofty and lowly. Like a ghost. Dipper mused, _Music is a moment that exists outside of time...both inside and outside of one's self..._ He shook off the thought. It was way too sappy to actually hold any meaning. He then looked back into the open band room, and somehow—maybe by the addition of him and Wirt—everything felt complete. Both within and without.

            Wirt pushed through the reed one last note, like a contented sigh. Mindfully lowering his clarinet from his lips, he stared at the wall ahead and slightly inclined his upper body. Dipper raised his head off the frame and smiled at this. Wirt was already imagining playing in front of judges even though it was weeks off. Forgetting the music in his hands, Dipper applauded the performance. They scattered across the small practice room. The scuffling of the pages just added to the shattering of repose.

            "Wirt, that was fantastic!"

            Wirt was obviously startled. His shoulders were high and close to his blushing ears as he turned to face Dipper. His eyes quickly darted down to the sheet music on the floor. "Oh! Ah, here. Let me help you with that." Wirt quickly bent to the floor.

            "Gosh, sorry! I--I don't know...what I…" Dipper gathered papers and mentally kicked himself for being so stupid.

            Wirt was undergoing the same mental self-abuse, but because he was ashamed he had acted so frightened. "Um, I—I mean to say thank you. For... the compliment, I mean." He sorted the papers in his hands to all go the same way.

            "No, no. I'm sorry. I should've knocked. Uh, anyway, I found some d-duet pieces we could try out next class period."

            "Heh, are these them?" Wirt lifted the stack in his hands at an attempt to diffuse the awkward air with an awkward observation.

            "Yeah, but I didn't think you'd be so _floored_ by them." Dipper attempted an awkward joke in response. Surprisingly, it sort of worked. Wirt laughed a little and so did Dipper, both more from nerves than anything else. “Um, so hey, Wirt.” He coughed a little here, mentally reviewing his Very Important List. Talking to Wirt without getting weird was already unfeasible. Dipper figured, Why not dig the hole deeper? “Why…did you agree to do an ensemble with me? I mean, you’re so good—”

            “Me??” he gasped. “I-I was wondering what I did that made you want me to do an ensemble with you. Not i-in a bad way, I mean like…how did I even get on your radar?” Wirt looked for more sheet music on the floor, even though they had already stacked them all. “I didn’t think you knew who I was…”

            _Didn’t know who you were?!_ Dipper was taken aback. Actually, he probably knew too much about Wirt considering they had never talked to each other. Not directly. Not like this. He laughed nervously, and that made Wirt grin a little. “I guess we’re pretty similar that way; I thought you wouldn’t know who I was either.”

            “Are you kidding? You’re the smartest kid in our history class and one of the only five sousaphones in a 40 piece band! It’s a pretty small school, everyone knows who you are.” Wirt became shy towards the end and a slight pink crept into his cheeks and on the tops of his ears. “But, um, anyway…Yeah, I’m really looking forward to the duet. M-maybe we’ll get to know each other better,” he stammered out, his lips pulling into something not quite like a smile. Like he forgot smiling was more than just showing your teeth.

            Dipper felt his stomach turn in all sorts of knots. Wirt was reciprocating his interest. This was not an expected outcome. At least, not expected until much later. “O-o-of course! Haha! Totally!” he stammered right back.

            Wirt gathered the papers that were piled in front of Dipper and consolidated them into his own stack. He pushed against one knee and rose off the floor. Holding his free hand out to Dipper he said, “We could start now… You’re headed outside, right?”

            Dipper looked at Wirt’s outstretched hand for a moment. This was _definitely_ not an expected outcome. But everyone knows you can’t just leave an empty hand waiting. Even _if_ you are perfectly capable of getting up on your own. Even if the person extending the help _knows_ you are perfectly capable of getting up on your own. Dipper gingerly hooked his thumb around Wirt’s and their fingers instinctively curled themselves over the other’s palm. Each pulling from the shared point of leverage, their bones and muscles and ligaments working in tandem, Dipper couldn’t help but think of the two of them as connected, at the very least, just for that instant. “Yeah, my ride is probably already out front,” he said as they both dropped their hands to their sides and gazed around the small practice room.

            “Yeah, mine too.”

 

            Walking down the hall, they started talking about their shared history class. Their study quirks, their frustrations with the current project, the lack of helpful rubrics, “I mean, he should at least _tell_ us what he’s looking for. He can’t get mad that half the class did the assignment wrong if he never explained it!” Dipper reasoned.

            “Haha, that’s true. It’s probably because he doesn’t give out rubrics to his football players. Like he says,” and here Wirt placed the top of his wrists under his nose, waggled his fingers like a wiry mustache, and in a scruffy voice said, “‘Everything is transferable!’”

            Dipper laughed at the expense of their history coach as they exited the school. Outside, the Pines family minivan was the sole occupant of the pick-up lane. As Dipper and Wirt approached the silver beast, the side door slid open with a beep and a mechanical hum. Mabel sat inside, her seatbelt already securely fastened. She looked none too pleased with their mother opening the door and revealing their drive-thru bags and half-drunk water bottles to the outside world. “That’s my mom,” Dipper winced. “Is your ride here? We could probably drive you…”

            “ _Come onnnnnnnn!!_ ” Mable whined distantly.

            “Oh, thank you, no. My step-dad’s coming pulling in now. That’s him there.” A small car came to a stop behind the Pines van. “I think your sister is going to have a cow if you don’t get in soon,” Wirt chuckled.

            “That’s fine, she loves cows.”

            “Haha, I’d better go, Dipper. I’ll see you Monday?”

            “Totally.”

            It was at this point that the boys found themselves dumbstruck. Do they shake hands? High-five? Hug? What was it that the cool guys do when they say bye to each other? Dipper ventured a gentle punch to Wirt’s shoulder, though it was more like he roughly petted Wirt’s sweater with his knuckles. Still, Wirt had the courtesy to rub his shoulder there and laugh kindly.

            “See ya later, man.”

            “See ya.”

            As he hopped into the car, Mom asked how his day had been. Gosh, if only she knew. Dipper mumbled an “Alright I guess. School’s school,” as he dropped his bag to the floor and buckled up.

            Their mom drove the car out of the parking lot and onto the street. Dipper turned to look out the back window and saw Wirt and his step-dad weren’t too far behind. Not unlike a child, Dipper’s hand guided itself up and gave a little wave. Wirt waved back, much to Dipper’s embarrassment. Quickly, he turned forward in his seat.

            Mable noticed and said to him, “Glad you’re finally making friends, Bro-Bro.”

            “Yeah. Me too,” he smiled.

            From his pocket, Dipper pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper covered in pen marks of various colors. He unfolded it carefully, retrieved a pen from the other pocket and clicked the utensil several times. Then, with the reverence of a scribe, Dipper thoughtfully checked off a number of boxes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking of maybe doing a few more chapters?? Playing around with awkward high school crushes?? Lol yeah, that's my area of expertise. Let me know what you think with some comments! That there is my bread and butter...


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